Startled, I turned and found a sheepish-looking Rory.
“I swear I’m the only person in the world who’s scared of Puff.”
“Not the only one,” I promised wryly.
With a tilt of her head, she covered her mouth. “Oh my God. Now I feel even worse. You’re afraid of him too?”
Between us, I held my forefinger and thumb an inch apart. “Little bit.”
“I probably would have cried if he’d landed on me like that.”
“I considered it. Along with jumping around and screaming.”
She giggled. “Mason kissed me for the first time because of a bird.” She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. “It’s the only time I’ve ever been grateful for a feathered beast.”
Allowing my shoulders to relax, I tipped my head, gesturing to my kids. “I’m going to go.”
“I’m headed over to the Bolts Arena,” she said. “But call me if you have any trouble with the hand.”
I nodded, though I wouldn’t call. Then I trotted up the stairs.
The group had congregated in the grass, and as I approached, Hannah was holding court. “How about a relay race around the bases? Each kid could be paired up with a baseball player. The kids could run from home to second, then they’d tag their Revs partner, and the guys would finish.”
My stomach sank, and I searched for Piper in the group. Surprisingly, she wasn’t blinking or fidgeting or showing any other sign of stress.
“Piper and I were talking about it,” Kyle said, and Piper beamed up at him. “We thought maybe the kids could ride on our shoulders while we raced around the bases.”
“Oh.” Hannah paused for a moment, pursing her lips. Then she broke out in a smile. “That will be perfect. Let’s set up the teams.”
“I call Dad,” Grey shouted, darting to Asher Price.
Sam ended up on Emerson Knight’s shoulders while Kyle carried Piper and Mason carried Clara.
Sam and Emerson won the first race, no contest. They made it to home plate before anyone else could even round third.
I worried Piper would be upset, but before she could make a comment, Kyle demanded a do-over.
“He totally started early,” he complained.
Mason tipped his head back, being careful to keep Clara on his shoulders. “Oh, here we go.”
With a roll of his eyes, Emerson laughed.
But without argument, they all lined back up.
By the fourth race, it was clear that Emerson really was the fastest. Asher and Mason gave up then, but Kyle was still pumped to run again. Finally, during the seventh race, Kyle and Piper won. The smile on my daughter’s face after they crossed over home plate was bigger than any I’d ever seen from her.
I couldn’t help but feel grateful for Kyle. Even when he declared that he’d drop us off on his way home and wouldn’t take no for an answer. It didn’t take long to get our things loaded and to get the kids buckled, since Kyle insisted on keeping Piper on his shoulders and Emerson had carried Sam out. Having extra sets of hands like this was unusual and unfamiliar, but not something I’d complain about.
Kyle watched as I pulled out the kids’ tablets and headphones. We had a twenty-five-minute drive ahead of us, and when my kids were stuck next to each other in the car like this, they could very quickly make a person want to stab their eardrums out.
Kyle eyed the kids, who were already homed in on their iPads in the third row of the Escalade. “So here’s the thing?—”
“If you’re going to tell me screen time rots their brains, you can save your breath. I don’t want to discuss it,” I warned.
Frowning, he studied me. “I wasn’t talking about screen time. They’re your kids. You make those calls.”
My chest tightened at the sentiment. Did he mean it, or was he pretending he agreed while silently judging my parenting?